The White Lady of Rohan

Éowyn gripped Faramir’s waist tighter as they rode across the plains of Rohan.

“You know,” she shouted above the wind, “I never used to go this fast!”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he laughed, “Where’s Éomer?”

“Oh he’s way behind!” Éowyn smiled, “We better not forget to thank Gandalf for lending us Shadowfax.”

Faramir agreed and the couple were silent again as they rode into the sunset.

***

“The sky is red, blood has been shed this night,” Legolas sighed.

“Not again!” Gimli moaned, “I’ve just recovered from Frodo’s epic!”

“Pipe down you two!” Aragorn cried from the kitchen, “Baren is trying to sleep! Arwen’s been up there for hours trying to lay him down. Gimli could you?” he started to say.

“Of course I’ll go and try! Legolassy, you coming?” Gimli replied.

“I’ve already told you I hate that name! I’d love to come, but I’ve got to go and see Gandalf,” Legolas sighed.

“Ok then, I’m going in!” Gimli said in an adventurous tone.

Legolas laughed, “I can’t wait until you grow up!”

As soon as Gimli had headed upstairs Aragorn turned to Legolas.

“If it goes wrong, if you don’t come out alive then…” he trailed off.

“I’ll be fine,” he sighed as he grabbed his finest bow from the striking oak shelf by the door, “I hope.”

When he turned to look at Aragorn he saw tears in his friend’s eyes.

“Whatever happens,” he cried softly, “At least Sauron’s gone.”

Elf and man embraced.

“He’s asleep,” Gimli whispered as he re-entered the kitchen before he noticed tears dripping from his two best friends’ faces.

“What in Isildur’s name is going on here?” he asked bewilderedly.

“It is too late to explain now, Gimli,” Legolas sighed.

“No! It’s never too late,” the dwarf tried to shout through tears.

“He’s right,” Aragorn agreed, “there’s only one solution.”

“And what is that?” Legolas asked, his eyes glowed with hope.

“We are coming too.”

***

Five-hundred miles away Faramir woke to feel the bed trembling softly. He drew away from Eowyn and slipped on his dressing gown. A chill rushed up his spine as he heard an incessant trotting noise from outside the tent. He kissed Éowyn on her pale cheek faintly, before positioning on his armour, picking up his sword and heading out of the tent. The wind whistled through his hair as the trotting noise continued. Suddenly he saw figures on the horizon. He ran back into the tent and woke Éowyn.

“They are coming! Wake up! Get up! We must leave immediately!”

“W-what?” Éowyn groaned, “Is it Éomer? Tell him to-”

“No, it’s not him. It is evil far greater than neither you nor I know and we must leave!”

Eowyn did as she was asked and helped Faramir pack up the tent.

“Quick, let’s mount Shadowfax and leave!” Faramir cried, fear creeping through his bloodstream, a quiver in his voice.

“Yes. Let us leave.” Eowyn replied.

The couple mounted the snowdrop silhouette, Shadowfax, and rode away from the figures that approached them.

***

Aragorn and Legolas stood at the door as they waited for Gimli to arrive.

“What’s keeping you?!” Aragorn shouted at the bathroom door.

“My hair’s all knotted!”

“I find that ‘Ever-blonde super-shine™’ helps” Legolas replied.

“I’m not blonde!” Gimli grunted.

As they were just about to leave there was a piercing scream followed by a loud cackle...